


If There Is Something

by thebodyeclectic



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-28 14:01:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebodyeclectic/pseuds/thebodyeclectic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro Maximoff-Xavier is eight, lives in a house that's great to play hide-and-seek in, has four hilarious uncles, two awesome older sisters, an annoying older brother, one kick-ass aunt, a Logan, the best dad on the planet and doesn't really want for much else.  Or so he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bastardization of a majority of the Pietro and Wanda prompts on the kink meme, that Parent Trap AU one being the most immediately apparent. WIP which I really wanted to start posting on the kink meme for convenience but I couldn't really mark this as a fill for any of them since it strays quite a bit from most of the specifics of those prompts.
> 
> Unbeta-ed and sorta anachronistic.

_Scott is a dick_ , Pietro thinks darkly as he stomps away from the cobbled together footie game.

He kicks at a pebble before throwing himself on the ground, snug between the two large protruding roots of his favourite tree. He isn't throwing a tantrum - he's _eight_ , he's a big kid now and in any case, he hasn't thrown a tantrum since he was seven and a half. That was _ages_ ago.

Still, it takes a lot of will power for him not to roll around on the dirt and beat his fists on the ground. Scott _always_ thinks he knows best just because he's the oldest and he also makes himself the leader of _everything_.

He's a dick.

Pietro tries not to think that too loudly because Dad might hear and then he'd be in trouble and Logan too because no one but Logan talks like that, except maybe Alex but then only when he thinks no one can hear, and then _Scott_ would get all huffy just because.

Sometimes Pietro wonders if it's possible to call the stork and ask him to take Scott back.

He quickly takes it back because that's just _mean_ and also there might be someone with genie powers close by and then where would Pietro be without his annoying older brother who thinks that Pietro's a baby who can't control his powers during a footie match?

"Are you alright, Pietro?"

Pietro huffs out a sigh and looks up at Ororo, glaring petulantly. "I'm fine."

Ororo raises an eyebrow and settles herself gracefully beside him. "You look troubled."

Pietro hugs his knees closer to his chest and looks away from her. "I'm _fine _, 'Ro."__

Ororo's fingers card through his hair. He knows big kids aren't supposed to let their older sisters do that anymore but Ororo's the best at it, second only to Dad, so Pietro compromises and doesn't move, pretends that he's _letting_ her pet him. "You do know Scott just wants to make the new students feel welcome." 

Pietro grunts.

"Everyone knows you're the best at this game, duck," she says, cupping his ear.

"Then I should be able to play!" Pietro whines, looking up at her imploringly.

She smiles down at him, tilting his chin up. "We don't want the other children to feel bad their first day here."

Pietro sighs again but gives in to her logic, leaning his head against her forearm, her curtain of white hair landing on top of his. "We shouldn't make them believe they're good when they're _not_. That's lying."

He feels Ororo laugh. "How very Machiavellian of you."

He squints up at her. "Huh?"

She laughs again, bops his nose, opening her mouth to explain only to be cut short by Scott and Jean yelling at her to come help them arbitrate.

She claps him on the shoulder apologetically and stands to leave. "I'll tell you later at dinner," she promises with a wink.

Pietro tracks her path up to where Scott and Jean are trying (and failing, _ha_ , Pietro thinks meanly) to hold the two makeshift teams away from each other and what looks like a fight breaking out.

That never would have happened if he'd been allowed to play. He'd have scored _all_ the goals.

Bored now, Pietro gets up, dusts his trousers off and decides to go look for someone to entertain him.

Sean's usually always up for a lark only this is just his second year teaching and he and Dad are holed up in Dad's study revising his lesson plans or something. He could go find Alex but Alex would just make him run laps and if there's anything Pietro hates more than Scott being bossy, it's running in circles and not going anywhere. He could go down to the labs and play only he still can't forget the sad looks Hank gave him from last time when he'd burned off most of the fur from Hank's leg. Armando's no good since he's taken the jet out for maintenance.

He decides to go find Logan instead.

Logan's funny and he's the only other person who can make Scott so mad he turns as red as Sean. Pietro figures he can commiserate.

Pietro zips into the house, looking for him - waving hi to Dad and Sean in the study, Hank in the lab and Alex in an empty classroom - then out across the back garden, zooming past the kids playing footie, the gazebo then out to the dock where Logan can usually be found sprawled out with his yucky beer and smelly cigar but no such luck. No Logan anywhere.

Pietro decides to check Logan's other favourite hiding spot, which is against the post right outside the gates because he isn't really allowed to smoke around the house and grounds anymore since they found out Hank and Jean are both allergic.

He skids to a halt, bringing up a cloud of dust.

Just on the other side of the gates is a girl with curly brown hair and a furry blue boy. They're arguing heatedly.

"Hi," Pietro says, pressing up against the bars of the gate and staring at them.

They both immediately stop fighting to turn and look at him.

"Lost?" Pietro asks, watching as the boy tries to surreptitiously hide behind the girl.

"We're looking for Charles Xavier's school," the girl says imperiously.

Pietro wrinkles his nose at that. Just abandoned one bossy snot for another. "You've found it," he answers shortly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you new students?"

The furry blue boy opens his mouth to say something but the girl pinches him.

"Ow!" the boy yelps, rubbing at his arm. Pietro feels bad for him.

"Yes, yes, we are," the girl says, moving close and studying Pietro. "Are you a student as well?"

Pietro decides that he really, really does not like this girl. "Sometimes," he says, jutting his chin out. "I live here."

The girl blinks.

 _Hah,_ Pietro thinks. _Didn't expect that, did you?_

The girl quickly recovers and sniffs. "Well, shouldn't you be showing us to our rooms?"

"Who do you think you are?" Pietro bellows. He's so tired of everyone bossing him around just because he's the youngest, he won't stand for strangers doing the same. "You can't tell me what to do!"

The girl crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. Pietro's been trying for forever to learn how to raise just one eyebrow - it's yet another mark against this girl in a line of long ones and they've barely known each other five minutes.

"Well, you live here, don't you?" the girl says snottily. "You're _supposed_ to be polite to guests."

Pietro glares at her because, dammit, she's right. Dad's always trying to teach him manners and Alex is always telling him to stop being so goddamn spoiled, he isn't going to be the youngest forever (which is a lie because Dad's not going to have any more babies any time soon, Pietro's certain about this) and Sean isn't allowed to share his candy or even _have_ sweets in the house anymore now that it's also a school and Darwin _never_ has time for him and Jean says he can't sleep in her and Ororo's room anymore since it sets a precedent, whatever _that_ means, and he has to follow a stupid curfew now and he can't find out where Scott disappears to in the middle of the night and everything just _sucks_.

Aunt Moira's visits are also less awesome because she's not supposed to bring him cool toys anymore because then she'd have to bring all the younger students toys and she isn't Santa Claus. Last visit, Pietro had to settle for a dumb CIA pin.

He left it on Scott's study chair for him to prick his bum on.

If all that wasn't bad enough, his best friend Kitty's parents decided to send her to summer camp and she isn't going to arrive until next week.

Pietro's life is terrible.

" _Fine,_ " Pietro says, clenching his hands into fists and stomping away. It takes him a few nanoseconds to realise he's on the second floor landing and another few nanoseconds to run back to the driveway. "Sorry," he mumbles at the boy and girl.

The girl makes a face at him. The boy smiles, wide and shockingly bright against his blue fur.

"I can do that too!" he says and there's a loud _BAMF_ and the boy's gone. There's only a weird black cloud in his place and a smell that's not at all dissimilar to how Pietro's room smelled that time he took an egg from the larder and placed it in his underwear drawer hoping it would hatch.

"Hallo!" And the boy is waving from across the street. Pietro raises his hand and waves back, feeling stupid.

The boy disappears in another haze of black mist and then there's a loud _BAMF_ right next to Pietro's ear and the boy's suddenly standing next to him.

"Awesome," Pietro says.

The boy smiles, pleased. "It's nothing. You can do the same, ja?"

Pietro shakes his head. "I just run really fast."

"Still very awesome, too, yes?" the boy asks carefully and Pietro knows that tone of voice very well and comes to the decision to be nice.

"Right," Pietro says, smiling back.

There's an irritated huff and Pietro turns to see the girl rolling her eyes at both of them. "Fantastic, now there's _two_ of you," she says, stomping off in the direction of the foyer.

"Don't mind Ana," the boy says, smile dimming a little. "She doesn't care much for teleportation. It upsets her stomach."

Pietro shrugs. "She's a sour Sally, can't be helped. I'm Pietro," he says, holding out his hand to shake because that's what grownups do when they meet new people and Pietro's resolved to be good and mature now that he's eight.

"Hallo," the boy replies, taking Pietro's hand in his three-fingered one. "I am Kurt Wagner. Very pleased to make your acquaintance. And that was Ana."

"Where are you from?" Pietro asks as he and Kurt make their way to where Ana is leaning by the front door with her arms crossed and her foot tap-tapping away pointedly. "You sound just like Boris and Natasha."

"Boris and Natasha?" Kurt's brow furrows.

"From Rocky and Bullwinkle."

Kurt stares at him blankly.

"You've not seen Rocky and Bullwinkle?" Pietro asks, horrified.

"Is it a television programme?"

"One of the best!" Pietro chirps. He and Kitty have plans to visit Moosylvania some day soon, and Pottsylvania maybe when they're older because it's in Europe and you'd need to fly to get there and you need money to fly, which they don't have ( _yet_ but they've been saving up their allowance and supplementing with the change Sean keeps leaving on his dresser top).

"Where Ana and I live, the television is only for grown up things like the news," Kurt says, wide-eyed.

"That sounds horrible," Pietro says. He can't imagine not being able to watch any of his programmes and even though he isn't allowed to pick _all_ of the shows any longer and has to give the other students a turn, he'd rather suffer through a million episodes of Josie and the Pussycats than not see any cartoons at all.

"Not really," Kurt says. "I have my books."

Pietro feels so bad for him. "It's okay," he says, patting Kurt on the back. "We get an hour before dinner and all of Saturday morning to watch television here, even if we have to watch something dumb like The Brady Bunch. You won't need your books anymore."

Kurt comes to a sudden stop, abject misery written in every bone of his body. "I won't be allowed books?"

Pietro blinks. "If it means that much to you, you can have as many books as you want. My dad's got a _huge_ library."

"Oh," Kurt breathes, relieved.

Kitty is the biggest bookworm his age that Pietro knows and even she would take cartoons over a new Secret Seven book every time. Well, mostly sure. In fact, the only person Pietro knows who loves books as much as Kurt seems to love books is Hank...who also has blue fur...and awesome pointy teeth...

"Say," Pietro says, pulling Kurt to a stop right before the steps leading up to the foyer and the huffing Ana. "Do you know Henry McCoy?"

Kurt frowns, thoughtful. "I do not believe so."

"Sure?" Pietro says, skeptic.

"Quite positive."

"Hrm," Pietro says, tapping his finger on his chin as he and Kurt climb the steps. Ana glares at him and grabs Kurt by the hand and they start talking rapidly in some other language, all harsh consonants and clipped vowels.

He really wishes Kitty were here right now; she'd get to the bottom of this mystery.

And he'd have someone to commiserate with. He's absolutely sure that she'll hate Ana as much as he does.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long gap between posts. Life was a bit of a mess and I got blocked. Finally figured out where I want this to go so hopefully the interval between posts will be much shorter. As always, unbeta-ed and anachronisms abound. Thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos!

"Kurt," Wanda hisses, wedging the heavy oak door open. The room inside is dark, the curtains drawn, and she can barely make out Kurt's outline. Her eyes dart back out to surveil the long carpeted hallway, the huge priceless paintings in their gilt frames, the little antique tables and tchochkes. It looks a bit like the rarely used keep in the castle in Genosha.

It's quite unreasonable, in Wanda's opinion, to have that many breakable valuables when there are children running about.

The doorknob wrenches free from her hand and the door opens all the way. Kurt peers up at her and says, "Wanda?"

"Shhhhhh!" Wanda spits out, barely containing her groan. Kurt is not built for any sort of subtlety or espionage. Just like Azazel, as Emma would say. With their colouring and flashy powers, Wanda can hardly blame them - it's in their genes after all, but still.

Kurt would not have been her first choice as accomplice/minion but needs must and she's certain Aunt Raven _would not approve_ of this mission.

She pushes Kurt back into his room, quickly taking stock of their surroundings. "Is that boy gone?"

"Pietro?" Kurt asks, brow furrowing. "Quite a while ago, yes. He says supper will be at half past six."

Wands shuts the door behind her and waves an exasperated hand in Kurt's face. "I don't care about dinner!"

Kurt pouts. "Well I do, Wanda. You had us leave before lunch!"

"Don't be so soft," Wanda says, making her way to one of the two beds in the room and throwing herself down on top of it. "And stop calling me that!"

"Calling you what?" Kurt asks, rubbing his stomach. "And I really am quite hungry."

"My name is _Ana_ , remember?" Wanda says huffily, switching to the made up language she and Kurt cobbled together out of bits of Tolkein and Pig Latin Janos taught them back when they were little and naive and could be tricked into believing everything grown ups said. It's horrible having a father who speaks most of the European languages - there's just no talking around him.

"I don't know why you insist on this," Kurt says, crossing his arms and plopping down beside her. "Hardly anyone would take notice."

"Vigilance, Kurt!" Wands growls. Is she the only one who listens to Father's lectures? She even did her research, watching marathon after marathon of spy movies on the telly and everyone _always_ had a code name or an alias. Seeing as she can hardly parade around calling herself the Scarlet Witch without drawing suspicion, she'd had to settle for the very forgettable Ana. "Must you be so bothersome?"

"I agreed to take you here, didn't I?" Kurt counters, falling back to lie on the mattress and deliberately not looking her in the eye.

"And it only took _eight_ stops to get here," Wanda says sarcastically. Not that she isn't grateful but one mustn't show their hand prematurely.

"I'm improving," Kurt replies, hushed and sullen. "And I can't see why _I_ should have to stay here; I've done my part."

Wanda pinches his side. "Because you'd tell the _second_ Father looks at you."

"I would not!"

"Would too," Wanda says firmly, reaching into the pocket of her dress and pulling out a Cadbury bar. "Admit it - Father _terrifies_ you."

Kurt, focus narrowed on the chocolate, shrugs. "Of course Magneto terrifies me," he says, matter-of-fact. "Only the ignorant are not."

Wanda snorts but tosses him the candy bar. She watches him unwrap it with unholy glee. "Well, you _should_ be terrified of _me_."

"I am," Kurt says while taking a huge bite out of the candy. "You are very violent."

Wanda rolls her eyes. "Don't be soft. And come on!" She takes him by the arm and drags him out the door and out into the hallway. "I've checked and most everyone is occupied playing football outside. Now is the best time."

"Football?" Kurt says, ears twitching in excitement.

"No," Wanda says sternly as she pulls Kurt down a corridor.

Kurt pouts, quite loudly if you ask Wanda's opinion, but is content to be silent, allowing the candy to distract him. It's for the best as Wanda isn't really as adept with focusing her powers as she'd like to be and she needs to concentrate. Kurt's nattering would have been quite the annoying distraction.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out like Destiny had taught her, she shuts her eyes and takes a deep dive into the swirling abyss at the very centre of herself - her first teacher Doctor Strange called it chaos magick but the term never sat right with Wanda. Destiny says it is what is in the very heart of her and while it still doesn't ring completely true, Wanda likes that much better.

Wanda tries to visualize that photograph she and Kurt had found tucked up in the pages of Raven's first edition Narnia. It had been a Wednesday and she and Kurt had been left in Destiny's care yet again as everyone in the castle went off on some mission or another. She and Kurt had snuck into the kitchens, hell-bent on making rugelach only to have made a tremendous mess and earned subsequent lifetime banishment from Cook.

Destiny had bade them read to her, to supposedly practise their English, though Wanda knew it was to keep them sequestered in Kurt's family's rooms and out from underfoot.

She had them choose from Raven's bookshelf and she and Kurt had nearly gotten into fisticuffs - the result of too much time spent alone in each other's company while cooped up in the castle as it stormed outside - and they'd landed heavily against the bookshelf and the Narnia book toppled to the floor, effectively ending their argument.

Destiny had plucked it from the floor and while she handed it to Kurt to read, a photograph slipped from its pages and fell face down on the floor. Destiny hadn't noticed but Wanda went to pick it up anyway because while Aunt Raven very much subscribed to the idea of socialism - unlike Emma and Angel who took umbrage to Wanda and Kurt rifling through their belongings without explicitly asking first - she doubted Aunt Raven would appreciate her things being trampled underfoot.

That Wanda would flip it over to see what it was had never been in question.

And that was the start of _everything_.

It was a picture of Father younger than he was now with an expression unlike anything Wanda had ever seen on his face smiling at a blue-eyed, pink-cheeked young man while between them two babies fussed on a blanket.

Wanda could barely stifle her gasp.

Of course Destiny had heard that and while Wanda was quick to come up with an excuse, she also stuffed the photograph down the front of her shirt, glaring at Kurt to keep quiet as she did so.

Only when she was alone in her room, tucked up in bed, did she pull the photo out again.

She couldn't take her eyes off Father's face, lingering over the expression of absolute joy and contentment, and it made her sad knowing that she hadn't been the one to put it there but also somewhat reassured that it did exist and that maybe sometime soon she might accomplish something that would make him look at her like that.

Her eyes strayed to the other man next and she memorised his face, his soft maroon jumper, the natty white shirt - everything about him - down to the hand in fingerless mittens where they rested on one of the babies' bellies and that's when she realised, _oh,_ that was her, her as a baby with springy dark curls sheltered in the protective curve of the man's body.

 _Oh,_ Wanda had thought and pressed the picture to her chest.

She laid in bed for quite some time, thinking things through and decided that the only reasonable course of action would be to find the man in the photo. Obviously.

And the first place to start would be to rifle through Aunt Raven's things.

She'd crept out of bed and through the corridors of the castle, out of her and Father's rooms and into the wing that housed Kurt's family's. She had to be quiet - Destiny had superior hearing - but not especially so since Azazel and Aunt Raven were out. She snuck into the parlour and searched the shelves for the first edition Narnia (Kurt never ever puts things back in their proper place - he claims to having his own shelving system but Wanda thinks it's a convenient excuse for being easily distractable).

She found the book wedged in between a worn copy of the Bible and a new volume of the Quran. Holding her breath, she pulled out the book and opened it to the first page where she found, written in a neat Copperplate, _"Property of C. F. Xavier, 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York."_

And below that, in purple crayon, _" & RAVEN XAVIER."_

How fortuitous.

Wanda had copied that down onto the back of the photograph and had scurried back to her room giddy with the excitement of potential discovery.

She ended up almost sitting on Kurt who had most likely sleep-teleported onto her bed again.

Which led to her having to tell him everything which led to Kurt helping her pinpoint the address on a map which led to them sneaking out of the castle which led them to the gates of 1407 Greymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York - also known as Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters - which led them to where they are now, creeping down the stairs to the first floor and heading along yet another hallway.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asks through a mouthful of chocolate.

"To find the man in the photo," Wanda answers with more than a little bit of impatience. Really, Kurt should pay more attention to their machinations if he's to improve as a minion.

"Wouldn't it be better to find the other baby in the photo first?"

Wanda rolls her eyes and doesn't deign to answer. Kurt's been dead-set on the notion that finding Wanda's long-lost twin sister should be the first step in their plan. Wanda thinks it's ridiculous as even if the white haired baby in the photo with her were her sister, the chances of her knowing anything would be slightly less than nil, what with also being a baby when the photo was taken.

Frankly, Wanda thinks Kurt has read too many romances and addled his brain.

"Ana," Kurt says but Wanda doesn't hear the rest of what he has to say because the swirling ineffableness inside of her _blazes_ , demanding all of her attention, and she feels...almost like how it feels when Father wraps her in his arms when he comes home after a long mission, like waking up the morning of your birthday to find everyone gathered at the foot of the bed with presents and breakfast and that dream she always has (before she wakes up crying for some inexplicable reason) where she's crawling forever but it isn't frightening because someone's there beside her the entire time, laughing and crooning encouragement.

She wants to run to that feeling, capture it and never let go and she might very well have if Kurt hadn't taken hold of her wrist and started dragging her _away_.

"Kurt!"

"What are you doing down here?" And there's the boy from earlier today, arms crossed over his chest and glaring at them.

Oh, that's what Kurt had been trying to say.

"We're lost," Wanda answers imperiously.

"Yes, we are hungry and went to find the kitchen," Kurt says, picking up on her cue.

"Right," the boy says, shrugging, "well, you're going the wrong way."

"You didn't exactly give us a _proper_ tour," Wanda can't help but needle.

The boy glares. "Well you were the one who said you were tired!"

"You did say that, Ana," Kurt says. The traitor. Wanda decides to demote him from minion-in-training to peon.

Wanda huffs but won't be made wrong. "That's no excuse for being a poor host."

The boy's face turns purple with rage. It's amusing. The colour almost matches his hair.

"Hey, what're you sprogs doing here?" A man with a shock of ginger hair walks up to them. He looks them over, blinks, and addresses the boy. "And what happened to your hair, duck?"

The boy shrugs. "Jean used grape Kool-Aid."

"Yeah," the man says. "I don't even want to know." He turns to address Wanda and Kurt. "So, hi, I'm Sean. I'm going to be your Art teacher."

"Hallo, my name is Kurt Wagner," Kurt says, beaming up at the man.

"Ana Eisenhardt," Wanda says curtly.

"Nice to meet you," Sean says, smiling. "Glad to see Pietro's making friends." His hand comes down to clasp Pietro around the neck.

He manages to ignore the mutual glaring Wanda and Pietro are engaged in. So does Kurt, who says, "Yes, and we are pleased to make his acquaintance as well."

"That's great," Sean says, nodding. "So, I don't know about you guys but I'm starving. You wanna see if we can manage to beg some scraps off of Abilena before dinner?"

Kurt nods enthusiastically. "Yes, please! I missed lunch."

Wanda huffs. "I said I was sorry!"

"I forgive you," Kurt replies magnanimously.

Wanda scowls.

"Kitchen's this way, guys," Sean says, turning and leading Pietro in the opposite direction. Wanda and Kurt fall in step behind him. "Hey, duck, you haven't been in my stash, have you? 'Cos if you wanted some of the candy Moira brought from England, all you had to do was ask."

"I didn't take anything!" Pietro screeches. "One time! And I heard it from Dad _and_ Armando _and_ Scott, alright? Stealing is bad."

Sean shrugs. "You could've been listening to Alex for all I know."

Behind them, Wanda starts studying the architecture very intently while Kurt very surreptitiously crumples up the Cadbury wrapper and stuffs it in his trouser pocket.

Wanda tunes out the rest of their banter in favour of looking back down the hall, trying to keep her lip from wobbling. It feels just like waking up from _those_ dreams all over again.

*

This is what Wanda remembers:

Dark, rich woods and a flickering fireplace, the smell of smoky liquor and aged paper, her palms and knees smushing the jewel-brilliant colours of thick carpeting and laughter, so much light-hearted, brilliant laughter.

She's one part of a whole here only it doesn't make her feel unimportant - the opposite really. She feels bigger than she should be.

She crawls and crawls until she reaches polished wood and then she's being whooshed into the air and she's rubbing noses with someone and all she sees is blue blue blue.

*

Sean isn't stupid. He might play it up most days when he feels like smoking up and riding the gentle wave of being baked but that's a choice, kind of like how he chooses to play slow and naive when the situation calls for it.

If there's one thing he learned from that long summer with Erik in the mansion, it's pragmatism. He isn't the fastest, wittiest, strongest - hell, there's only a small percentage of the population his brand of charm works on - but he can play possum with the best of them.

So when he sees the two new students whose names just magically appeared on the bottom of the enrollment sheet wandering the halls near Charles's study, it doesn't take him too long to connect the dots.

The thing about Wanda's illusions is that once you know what they are, they stop messing with your head so much.

It takes some concentration, though. A lot more than it did five years ago when he'd wake up in the nursery after having collapsed on the floor from chasing the twins around and wrestling them into bed for their naps to find them sleeping peacefully only to notice Wanda's stuffed goat wasn't tucked into bed with them.

The projections of Pietro and Wanda used to vanish the very moment the jig was up, leaving Sean to race frantically around the mansion's many, many corridors looking for the real ones.

It's different now when he looks at the student roster. The names Ana Eisenhardt and Kurt Wagner stay on the page and only flicker when he looks hard enough.

He thinks it's what being faced with psychic paper must be like.

Still, if no one from The Brotherhood's come to beat down their doors and demand their kids back then he's going to sit back and see how this all plays out.

Wanda always was the one to send him into fits of cardiac arrest when it was his turn to babysit the twins.

This should be interesting.

*


	3. Chapter 3

_Duck, in the study, if you'd please,_ Dad says and Pietro tries very hard not to think _Crap!_ and looks for a place to hide the Krazy Glue. The quarter he'd stuck on the floor outside Fred and Mort's room is a lost cause if Dad's found out about his prank but to be on the safe side, he shoves a bit of the hallway carpeting over it just in case.

If his luck holds then he can resume with the tricks at a later time.

Pietro runs to the study, pausing to stick his tongue out at Ana and Jubilee who're busy constructing a vinegar and baking soda volcano in an empty classroom.

He skids to a stop right before he hits the double doors - Logan's always harping on him to work on his braking - and slips inside just in time to hear Dad tell Darwin: " - and if you need to get in touch, we'll be traveling between the Astoria and Rydel House."

"And if it's _really_ urgent, I'll just yell," Darwin replies, smirking, which can only mean one thing.

" _Again?_ " Pietro sighs, rolling his eyes and stomping over to where Dad's sitting beside his desk.

Logan's holding up one side of the door, arms crossed across his chest, teeth clamped around an unlit cigar stub and Alex is behind Dad's desk, carefully piling heaps and heaps of papers into Dad's briefcase and Pietro _hates_ everything - wants to cling to Dad's legs and refuse to let go until he promises not to leave, only part of being a big kid means understanding that Dad's important to the rest of the world too and that he can't only be Pietro's.

"Now, darling," Dad says, cupping Pietro's cheek and forcing Pietro to look him in the eye. "You know we've discussed this."

Pietro rolls his eyes, huffs, but nods. He rests his head against the arm of Dad's chair and looks up at him pitifully.

"Oh, Duckie," Dad sighs, the corners of his mouth turning down and his eyes going shiny and Pietro should really know better than to out-guilt his own dad. "Get up here."

Pietro scrambles up Dad's lap, manoeuvering until his feet are hanging off one arm - Dad lets out an "Oof!" - and smushes his face against Dad's neck.

"Soon you'll be too big and won't be able to do this without breaking the chair," Dad says, fingers carding through Pietro's hair.

"We'll get Hank to make a sturdier one," Pietro mumbles, surely ruining the line of Dad's shirt in the process.

Dad clucks. "Which reminds me," he gently pulls Pietro's face away from his chest and makes eye contact. "Behave while I'm away, alright? Darwin and Logan are in charge, so you listen to them."

Pietro makes a face because he's not a baby, this is old stuff.

"And stop making trouble for your brother," Dad says, less seriously this time.

Pietro scrunches his nose. "But he's so annoying! It's like he _wants_ me to make fun of him!"

"He's got you there, Prof," Logan says and Pietro _loves_ Logan because Logan always _always_ takes his side.

"You," Dad says, leveling a glare at Logan. "You stop being a terrible influence."

"But it's true!" Pietro says, coming to Logan's defense this time around.

Dad sighs. "Be that as it may, it wouldn't hurt you to at least _try_ to get along with him."

"It would, it really would," Pietro says seriously.

Dad does that thing again where he stares at Pietro sadly and Pietro can't stand it so he says, " _Fine,_ I'll _try_. But just so you know, it won't be easy!"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex snorts, finally finished sorting out Dad's stuff. "Your life's real hard, kid."

"It is!" Pietro protests.

Alex rolls his eyes and moves to stand by Dad's side. Pietro sticks his tongue out at him.

Dad catches Pietro's tongue between his thumb and forefinger. "Be good." He waits for Pietro's nod before releasing his tongue. "That also means you need to stop sneaking into the girls' room. It isn't summer any longer."

Pietro crosses his arms. "Okaaaaaaaay."

"Tell him he needs to take regular baths too," Darwin pipes up.

"I do!" Pietro says while trying to glare surreptitious daggers at Darwin. "I took one yesterday and this morning!" Well, he splashed himself with water while brushing his teeth, but that _counts_.

"No it doesn't," Dad says, chiding. "Your hair's still purple."

"Fine, I'll take a bath when you leave," Pietro says because he knows when everyone's determined to gang up on him and he just can't win.

Dad gives his hair a few more strokes then plants a kiss on his forehead. "Don't drink the bathwater, love."

Pietro heaves another sigh. That was one time.

Pietro squeezes Dad's middle tight for a long time and then Dad's handing him off to Darwin and waving goodbye as he and Alex leave the room and head for the hangar.

Pietro lets himself be sad for a little while but then Darwin's handing him off to Logan and then Logan's carrying him out to the backyard and then - oh no, Pietro should have seen this coming, he really should have - he's being tossed into the pool.

Pietro's wail of despair is drowned out by the sonic rumble of the Blackbird taking off.

*

Pietro tries very, very hard to be nicer to Scott but he just wants the world to know that it's Scott's fault that they don't get along.

Scott's bossy and mean and has no sense of humour at all and it's always Pietro don't do this, Pietro don't do that, Pietro you're not allowed in here, stop following me around - and really, the last one's just because he isn't allowed to trail after Jean and Ororo anymore and there isn't much to do in the house in the summer so it isn't Pietro's fault.

And even when Jean and Ororo sneak him into their room, and there he is rolling on their beds and letting them ply him with sweets and being lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of their conversation, Scott always manages to barge in just before he drifts off and threatens to tell.

Personally, Pietro thinks it's Scott being petty because he and Jean had to get separate rooms the summer they turned twelve because no matter what anyone thought and how alike they looked, they weren't _really_ twins and appearances had to be kept or whatever.

It's unfair that Pietro has to suffer prematurely all because Scott grew up.

So it's understandable that listening to Scott blather on and on about mixed fractions is an enormous burden for Pietro to bear.

Usually Pietro would be fast asleep, drooling on his notebook, but Kitty wrote to him threatening great pain if he failed to take notes in her absence. He sincerely wishes Alex didn't have to go with Dad so that he'd be spared Scott's extremely dry oration.

The bell rings ( _finally_ ) and Pietro's the first one out (as always) and then he's in the East Wing, standing outside his Science classroom. Ororo's subbing for Dad (yay!) and then it'll be Art with Sean then English with Jean and then classes will be over and Pietro'll be free to get on with his plans to prank Mort. The day can't be over soon enough for his liking.

Pietro waits until most of the previous class has filed out before going up to 'Ro at the teacher's desk. Her classes are almost always fun mostly due to the plants she brings in from her nursery.

"What did you bring, 'Ro?" Pietro asks her, propping his chin up on the desk.

"And a very good morning to you too, Pietro," she answers, turning from where she's erasing some words written beside a chalk drawing of an orchid on the blackboard.

Pietro makes cow eyes up at her.

She laughs and bends to retrieve something from behind the desk. It's a potted Venus Flytrap - pink leaves spread wide and disgusting. "Cool!" Pietro breathes, finger coming up to poke at it.

Ororo swats his finger away. "No, duck," she says sternly.

"But _why not_?" he whines and that's when he hears someone make a disgusted noise from behind him.

He turns, glare at the ready, and finds that it's Ana, arms crossed over her chest and rolling her eyes at him.

Pietro sneers at her but knows better than to say anything with Ororo right there. She's very strict when it comes to not stooping to other people's levels - though icy politeness is okay.

His gaze passes over her and to Kurt who he grins and waves at.

Kurt doesn't wave back, just stares wide-eyed at his head while tugging insistently on Wanda's sleeve.

Great, now Pietro's going to have to keep sitting with Sam and Jamie who are less separate people and more SamandJamie. It totally blows that Kitty isn't here yet.

*

"Wanda!" Kurt hisses, trailing her all the way back to her room and pulling at the back of her blouse.

Wanda, who for the most part had been ignoring him and the notes he'd kept trying to pass all throughout Science class, clutches her books tighter to her chest and bulldozes her way past students loitering in the halls before finally making it into her room and slamming the door in Kurt's face.

It doesn't keep him out, obviously.

 _BAMF_ and he's sitting on her bed, looking up at her imploringly. She tosses her books at him.

"You aren't allowed in here with the doors shut," she says, crossing to her study cubby and collapsing in the chair, pointedly turning her back to him.

She can practically _feel_ the pitiful face he's making.

"But it's true! You know it is."

"You're mad," she says, pulling out her Philosophy book - a slim obviously self-published text geared towards children. Pathetic. Wanda has been able recite _The Art of War_ in its entirety in Mandarin for three years now.

"I'm not! Look, hand me the photo and you'll see!"

"No," she says, flipping open the book and pretending to read. Dear God, there are illustrations of animals smiling at each other in this.

"Wanda."

She sighs, turns around and levels Kurt with a look. "No."

"Please," Kurt says, blinking up at her. "I won't touch it."

Wanda pauses.

"Fine," she says and goes to her wardrobe. Inside the lining of the suitcase she'd come to the school with is a second edition print of The Prince Emma had given her for her last birthday. And tucked inside that is the photograph.

She sits beside Kurt on the bed and holds the photo in two hands, hunching protectively over it.

"Oh," Kurt breathes. "You see it's true."

Faced with incontrovertible proof, Wanda can't deny it any longer. But there's no law saying she has to acquiesce gracefully though.

Kurt points at the white-haired baby in the photo. "It _is_ Pietro."

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is becoming a weekly thing instead of the once every three days posting schedule I kept up with the previous story on the kinkmeme. I've been really busy reevaluating my life career-wise so there's that as a reason for being blocked. Erm, if anyone's reading this and wanted me to write more of _this is only now (where do we go from here)_ , IDK give me a prompt and I'll try to write it?
> 
> As always feedback is greatly appreciated!


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